


Perfect

by J_EnotsoLovely



Series: One Piece One Shots and Drabbles [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Feelings Realization, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Body Mutilation, POV Vinsmoke Sanji, Sanji Is Not A Vinsmoke, Self-Destructive Behavior, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26623984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_EnotsoLovely/pseuds/J_EnotsoLovely
Summary: The person in the mirror was the him that didn't know hope. Was the him that got abused. Got beaten. Got torn limb from limb slowly, tortuously. Was the him that fought his way back up. The person in the mirror hated Sanji, hated this weakness that had become Sanji. This wasn't him.Sanji wasn't weak."You're strong."That's what the person in the mirror growled.But the voice disagreed.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Series: One Piece One Shots and Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936849
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67
Collections: Unrequited Love





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. I'm kinda sad, so this fic reflects that
> 
> I read somewhere that sometimes, people who hate themselves, find it hard to be with someone who loves them. It makes sense. 
> 
> Please enjoy
> 
> And listen to Leaving Tonight by The Neighbourhood for added effect! 
> 
> https://youtu.be/Uxyb5QYoBzE

It wasn't working.

It wasn't fucking _working._

Sanji couldn't do it anymore.

He raked his hands through his hair, pulling harshly at the roots. 

It hurt like a bitch.

A really whiny bitch.

His fingers came back stained with blood.

It _still_ wasn't enough.

 _"Shit."_ He whispered. _"Shitshitshitshit SHIT!"_

He rammed his fist through the bed-room door, hissing in pleasure at the sting of splinters in his hand. The pain was gratifying, the ruination feeling like a 'welcome home'. The blonde watched in morbid fascination as blood slid down his palm in thin strands. His tongue flickered, struck with the sudden need to lick the liquid off, putting it back in his system where it-- rightfully-- belonged, but something stopped him.

It was _that_ voice.

That sickly sweet voice that resided in the recesses of his mind. The voice that sounded suspiciously like a woman. Who whispered seductively in his ear and purred praises when he let his hand rest on a burning stove-top for too long, or held the lighter closer to his face than was needed. She stroked his heart encouragingly when he once stepped onto the ledge of his window, tilting precariously, and fucking _keened_ when a strong wind nearly knocked him over the edge. 

_"Jump."_ She told him and he nearly did. That voice in his head was persuasive. 

She convinced Sanji of all the things he tried to deny. Of all the things his father told him. 

_"Useless."_ She moaned wantonly. _"You're utterly useless. Worth nothing."_

And she was right. That voice was right and he couldn't do anything but smile and nod, because the voice in his head was a woman and women were always right. He couldn't scream at her, at the voice in his head so instead he screamed at himself.

He screamed, and screamed, and screamed, guttural growls, clawing at his throat as if he could rip out his vocal cords just to stop all the hideous _noise._

The person in the mirror mocked him. The person in the mirror laid him bare. The person in the mirror knew how much of a disappointment he was.

After all, it was the person in the mirror who told Sanji these things. 

The person in the mirror was the him that didn't know hope. Was the him that got abused. Got beaten. Got torn limb from limb slowly, tortuously. Was the him that fought his way back up. The person in the mirror hated Sanji, hated this weakness that had _become_ Sanji. 

This wasn't _him._

Sanji wasn't _weak._

 _"_ You're _strong."_

That's what the person in the mirror growled. 

But the voice disagreed. She told Sanji not to listen to the person in the mirror. 

The person in the mirror was a liar.

The blonde had no value in this world.

The voice spoke, she spoke quietly, the way his mother used to. 

_"No one loves you."_ She sang. _"No one cares. Not even your lover."_

Lover.

Zoro.

Sanji let out a broken laugh, staring at the sizeable hole in door. 

Lover.

"He's far from a lover." The chef scoffed, pointedly ignoring the ache in his chest.

She hummed in agreement. _That_ voice. 

_"Ah you're right. You're right. After all."_ She paused dramatically and Sanji wondered why the hell did he have to end up with a woman as his conscious. _"What_ _lover would call their significant other a **dirty little whore**."_

He flushed bright and contemplated throwing another punch. 

Or lighting a cigarette.

Maybe taking a shower and letting the water scald him.

She had an obsession with heat. _That_ voice did. She liked the smell of his burnt flesh and flushed skin. 

And Sanji didn't mind indulging, since it meant the the glass in the bathroom fogged up, and stopped the person in them mirror from mocking him.

"He only says those things because I like it." He muttered, looking away, even though in technicality he was only talking to himself. "Zoro's a good guy. He doesn't mean it."

The blonde cringed at his own words, hating how right they were.

How perfect the Kendo instructor was. 

How kind, with his bronze skin and golden earrings.

His deep, deep eyes that Sanji wanted to drown in forever. 

This man that Sanji loved because he fucked him rough and used him like a rag-doll.

Who bruised his pale skin and marked the milky expanse, turning it a dark red. 

Zoro, who sneered his name like a curse. Who spit on him and pounded into Sanji with a vigor and strength that left the chef _broken._

Broken.

Ruined.

 _Exactly_ how he liked it.

Sanji was in love with Roronoa Zoro because Roronoa Zoro treated Sanji like he was worthless. 

And it was perfect. It was perfect.

Perfect.

_"Sanji." Zoro groaned in the darkness of the room as he forced himself into the blonde without preparation. "Sanji you're perfect."_

_The swordsmans whispered it all night, even as he choked him into oblivion._

_"You'reprefectyou'reprefectyou'reprefectyouperfect. Sanji, I love you. I love you so much."_

Zoro meant it.

Sanji could tell. The words had an honest flavor of truth, so stark that he wondered how he missed it before.

Zoro loved him.

 _"And that's exactly why its a problem. Isn't it?"_ She asked, _that_ voice, teeth bared in a predatory grin that he couldn't see but knew was there.

Sanji nodded reluctantly, hating to agree with her. 

The Kendo Instructor loved him.

That's exactly why it was a problem.

Sanji couldn't love Roronoa Zoro if he treated Sanji like he was someone to be treasured. 

The thought made his stomach sink and he hit his head on the door.

Nononononono _NO._

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Was that idiot Marimo fucking _blind?_

_How could he love someone like Sanji????_

All he wanted to do was love the shitty piece of moss with all his heart.

All he wanted was for Zoro to hate him and stay near. Stay close but stay revolted, disgusted.

And of course he ruined it. Sanji ruined it like he ruined everything else. 

He was a failure and would stay that way.

He looked at the hole in the door. It matched the hole in his heart.

The blonde just _had_ to go and make the swordsman love him like the attention seeking slut he was. 

Of course he did.

Now it was all over.

It was all over.

It wasn't working.

It wasn't fucking _working._

Sanji couldn't love Roronoa Zoro if Roronoa Zoro loved him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Having Sanji's conscious as a woman? I had to.
> 
> I feel like it'd be weird to say I hope you liked.  
> Well, leave a comment, let me know what you think.


End file.
